


Hot Night at the Rusco Motel

by shibarifan01



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: M/M, PWP, Rusco, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 11:35:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shibarifan01/pseuds/shibarifan01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene at the end of Lethe - set after the police arrival - Reese and Fusco rent a room at the motel next door</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Night at the Rusco Motel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Inspired by Kmmerc's piece - but of course, as you know me, the roles are reversed.
> 
> As usual, nothing belongs to me: not the characters, nothing else - just my overactive imagination.
> 
> I'm gifting this to Kmmerc because she's a superb writer and because her fic inspired me immensely!

 

The policemen left after giving Reese and Fusco a serious dressing down. They had only escaped being taken into custody because Fusco showed them his shield and told the police they’d come to blows over an old flame and that they would make their peace. Aching, tired and with the wind taken out of their sails, they took the only room left in the motel across the street. The clerk smirked as he handed them the sole key and told them to have a good night. It was the honeymoon suite, which meant one bed (why would honeymooning couples want to sleep in this rundown hole-in-the-wall was another story). But they were both too tired to mind. After spitting another mouthful of blood, Reese said “I’ll sleep on the floor,” in his usual terse way, which made Fusco snort as he was wiping dirt and blood off his left cheekbone while they were limping into the room.

No sooner had they gotten in the room that Fusco turned around and slammed Reese against the door, pushing his large belly against Reese, jamming his forearm against his throat and grabbing his hair in a vise-like grip. He was like a French bull-dog going after a Great Dane.

“Have you had enough? Wanna go at it again? Because I’m not done, and not by a long shot!” Reese just looked at him, not saying a word, his usual smirk on his lips, so Fusco pushed more against him, each syllable being driven into Reese by another push: “I’ll. Wipe. That. Smirk. Off. Your. Face. Cause. I’ve. Had. Enough. Of. Your. Attitude.   And…” and then Fusco stopped, an air of amazement on his face, as if the light had suddenly dawned on him. He removed his hand from Reese’s throat and, bringing his arm down, grabbed a handful of very hard dick.

“I’ll be a son of a bitch! I thought I did feel your hard-on while we were going at it outside, but I told myself I had to be dreaming! So that’s how it is? That kind of thing makes you hard? Doesn’t it? Hey, answer me when I’m talking to you!” Fusco bellowed right in Reese’s face, squeezing his dick hard. Reese simply closed his eyes, the long lashes making dark shadows on his cheekbones. He appeared to liquefy, letting out a long sigh, his legs folding a bit upon themselves so his closed eyes ended up level with Fusco’s. His face was down and he had not uttered a single word.

“Look at you! A few more seconds and I’d have you begging for it!” By then, Fusco had inserted one meaty thigh between Reese’s long ones, feeling John’s hard dick pushing against his hip. “Man, you’re a big boy!” said Fusco whose voice had dropped a few octaves. Wrapping a hand around Reese’s throat he proceeded to kiss him thoroughly. His tongue was like him: big, bold and brash, and it invaded Reese’s mouth making him moan softly. Reese’s hands were lying limp on either side of him but his hips were pushing against Fusco with all their might. Meanwhile, Fusco’s other hand was pawing at John’s hard cock through his wet jeans.

“Go have a shower,” said Fusco, his lips against John’s ear. “You’re wet, you’re bloody, and you’re shivering. Make it quick and then come back here and I’ll take real good care of you, and leave the water running.” And John, because he was so good at taking orders, unfolded himself and went into the bathroom from where Fusco heard the shower running. Lionel was achingly hard and he ran the heel of his hand against his dick, through his pants, trying to stave off his arousal and catch his breath. He still couldn’t believe he’d be having his way with Mr. Hard-Handsome-and-Horny… Talk about a reversal of circumstances when barely a half-hour before he thought the man would kill him without a second thought.  Who knew!

John came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, the outline of his hard dick plainly visible, running another towel in his hair. “Take off the towel and get on the bed,” said Fusco as he entered the shower, washing quickly, drying himself even more rapidly and walking back into the room, not bothering to cover up. His thick belly, sparsely covered in a brown curly mat did not cover his thick, cut, hard cock. It was by no means the size of Reese’s but it was blunt, with a set of heavy, swinging balls and a bulbous head standing proud. The big neck and the thick shoulders gave him an air of power and Reese’s eyes followed him as he walked around to the side of the bed.

Fusco climbed on the bed as John was moving to turn on his belly but Fusco’s arm stopped him mid-turn. “No, no no. On your back so I can see you. That’s it. Now, scoot down. That’s it, right there.” John was laying flat on his back, his thighs open, with Fusco on his knees between his legs. “Look at you! A thing of beauty aren’t you. And look at that dick! Man, how big is that thing? Must be over eight inches long, and that skin… I wish they’d let me intact!” At that, he started jacking Reese’s dick, his big, meaty hand wrapped around it, his other hand holding on to Reese’s balls. John was breathing loudly through his nose but still did not say anything and kept his eyes closed. “You like that, don’t you? Look at you, you’re leaking already…” And with that, Fusco ran his tumb around the head of John’s dick, wet it thoroughly and brought it to his lips. “Awww shit… you even taste good!” And at that, Reese’s eyes snapped up and his dick twitched in Lionel’s hand. Fusco was still sucking his thumb and looking at Reese when the prone man lifted one arm and brought the detective down to him. Lionel, not being bashful, let himself be lowered and proceeded to kiss John thoroughly and this time, John reciprocated, his tongue battling with Fusco’s, his other arm running along Lionel’s muscled back.

After a few minutes, Fusco came back up for air and, looking at John, said “No wonder the Professor goes out of his mind when you’re not around!”

“Don’t you dare, Fusco! Don’t you fucking dare speak about him!” John moved to lift himself up but Fusco slammed him back down on the bed, holding him by his forearms and pinning him to the mattress.

“It makes you squirm, doesn’t it, buttboy, speaking about your boyfriend like that while you’re hard and moaning under another man? Man, I like the little guy well enough even if he’s squirrelly as shit, but I’d love for him to see you now!” said Fusco, which only served to make John all the more horny. John just growled low in his throat. "He's not my... We don't..." started Reese but Fusco cut him off: "Tell that to somebody who cares will ya! And besides, with the way he looks at you, he's stupid if he's not doing you because it's plain to see that it's what he wants... and looking at you, it's clear as day that you're so damned willing to give it up!"

“You’re a crazy mother, Reese, but damn if you’re even handsome when you’re angry. Go figure!” said Fusco again, running a big hand over John’s quivering belly, stopping to tweak a hard nipple between his fingers. His other hand was still worrying the underside of John’s dickhead, making the ex-op move around to escape that sweet torment.

“Are you going to do it, Lionel, or are you just going to talk about it?” Reese rasped finally, running his hands along Fusco’s thighs. Fusco snorted and said to him “Is that what they call a ‘power-bottom’? Do you really think you’re going to tell me what to do when I have your dick and your balls in my hands? You do like to live dangerously, don’t you?” And pulling back gently on Reese’s foreskin, Lionel proceeded to run his other hand around the head of John’s dick, which brought a wail from him, and made him hump Lionel’s hand. “Eager little beaver aren’t you? Guess I’ll have to put you out of your misery,” he added.

Hunting around in his bag, which he’d left on the bed, Lionel extracted a condom, put it on himself, and lubed himself up, wiping the rest of the lube between John’s cheeks. He then proceeded to insert one fat thumb inside John and moved it around while John pushed up with his hips and grabbed his dick with both hands.

“You can play with yourself all you want, big guy,” said Fusco, “but don’t forget that I get to decide when we’re done… so if you don’t like getting fucked just after cumming – I know I personally don’t find it comfortable -- you’d be advised not to cum too quickly. Because I can go at it a loooong time… and I intend to do so, so you may end up cumming a few times before I’m done!” At that the prone man shivered so hard that Fusco felt it from inside John and John’s eyelids fluttered close again. A small “ohhhh” was all the sound he made.

Pushing gently on the underside of Reese’s thigh, folding him up upon himself, Fusco aligned himself and, pushing slowly but inexorably, he entered John and did not stop until he was fully encased in his wet heat.  John sighed, and Fusco growled. “Aw yeeeaahhh. Man you’re hot, and so, so tight!” said Fusco who by then was seeing stars. He stopped a few seconds to catch his bearings, only seeming to come back to himself when he felt John’s insides squeezing at his dick. 

“Easy there boy, don’t want to choke the poor thing before it has a chance to make you feel good, do you? We’ll get a good rhythm going, just like this…” and with that, Fusco started going at John with the regularity of a metronome and the strength of a jackhammer. John was going out of his mind because Fusco was unerringly hitting his prostate with every stroke and he felt he was about to explode. He was holding on to his dick, not sure if he was about to cum or pass out. Fusco’s flesh thudding against his was making those loud slapping sounds, Fusco was breathing loudly and John started keening low in his throat as his orgasm was fast approaching. “Oohh, come on Fusco, fuck me… deeper… here, here, just like that.. aww yeah… that’s it …hmmm hmmm…” and with that, John came all over himself, his sphincter squeezing the daylights out of Fusco’s poor cock but the man was like a machine… he did not even slow down and kept hammering at John who by then, had become pliant and boneless under Fusco’s assault.

“That’s it, let it build back up… man you’re sweet as fuck…” said Fusco as he kept going. John had never minded going for seconds right after a first bout. It then took him longer to get hard but that second orgasm, when it slammed into him after another few minutes, just bubbled out of him like a casserole of milk boiling on a stove, in waves after waves of thick white goo that ripped loud sighs out of him as if he did not have the strength to make more noise.

By then, the Fusco engine was starting to lose steam and John could feel him trembling mightily between his thighs. He extended both arms and flicked at Fusco’s nipples and that did it. The man came with a low growl and though he was wearing a condom, John could feel Fusco emptying himself inside of him.  Lionel had, by then, lowered himself over John and the tremors of his orgasm were still coursing through him. He kept on growling periodically and John could feel it reverberating inside him.

Lifting himself on an elbow after Fusco had rolled off him, John turned to him with one of his trademark smirks and said “Well, Lionel, I didn’t know you had it in you. You’re a man of many talents.” John’s voice was even raspier than usual and the elbow he was leaning on was trembling slightly. He seemed out of breath and thoroughly sated.

Lionel looked at him and barked a laugh. “Well, kiddo, anytime you want another go at it, just let me know.”

“Lionel, did you just call me kiddo?” asked John, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead.

“Right now I don’t even have the strength to argue, big guy. Let’s get some sleep, I’m bushed,” said Lionel, who proceeded to pull the blankets over them both. John was still facing him and Fusco pulled him in, wrapped his big arms around John’s shoulders, adjusted the blankets, and just as they were about to fall asleep, said “Get some sleep, buttboy, we’re going back to New York tomorrow morning.”

“Lionel, if you call me buttboy one more time, I’ll hurt you very, very painfully,” answered Reese, but his menace fell on deaf ears as Lionel kissed him on his ear and went “Shhhh.”

The sun glaring through the window is what woke them the following morning, with Fusco spooning around John, his morning hard-on firmly wedged between John’s thighs.

Thinking John was asleep, Fusco started moving back and forth, very slowly and very gently, so as not to wake his bed partner. “Fusco, have I created a monster? Are you going to tease me like this for very long or are you going to do something about it?” said John in his gravelly morning voice.

Lionel wrapped his big, beefy arm around Reese’s waist and grabbed John’s cock. “Wow… I can’t get over how big that thing is,” said Fusco, peppering kisses on John’s back. 

“Would you like me to…” started Reese but Fusco shot him down immediately. “Nah, and especially not with that python… I was never one for taking it, I’d much rather be the giver.”

“And you do it so well,” laughed Reese, stretching like a big cat, delighting in the lovely rhythm Fusco had started with his hand. He sighed and, turning his blue eyes to Fusco’s hazel ones, said “One more for the road, Lionel?” to which Fusco pushed him back on his belly, this time, and proceeded to grant him his wish.

A while later, as they’d both come out of the shower and were about to leave, Fusco grabbed Reese by the arm and, kissing him thoroughly, said to him: “You know, I spent the past two years being scared shitless of you. If I’d known that all it took to turn the killer tiger in a big, purring pussycat was to fuck you senseless, buttboy, I’d have done you long before today.” And grabbing his bag, he made his way out of the room, leaving Reese without any of his famous rejoinders. All he had left to do was to grab his bag and follow in Fusco’s footsteps.


End file.
